The Last Assassination
by miserychickfic
Summary: Jackson Rippner has one final job to pull. He leads this one last assassination, and he's off the hook. What he doesn't expect is the infatuation he'll have with the newest pawn in the game, or the lengths he'll go to should she get in the way. CH5 IS UP
1. Espionage

**THE LAST ASSASSINATION**

**Chapter 1 - Espionage**

Jackson Rippner was good at his job. Damn good. He had a quick mind, he was efficient, and most importantly, he followed orders. He never asked questions and he always got the job done. He knew that the best way to handle the most complicated of schemes was to break it down into simple tasks. For instance, as he sat in his black Lexus parked behind the dumpster of an old warehouse, he knew that all he had to do was wait until he recieved a phone call at exactly 2:20am, then he would be given instructions as to what to do next. He had learned early on that it wasn't too smart to get ahead of himself, and so he waited, masked and hidden beneath a burnout lamp post.

The Miami heat had turned to a cold chill as dusk approached and fog enveloped the water by the docks. Jackson checked his watch for the second time since he'd arrived and swallowed hard. 2:15. It wouldn't be long now. He glanced at the file sitting on top of the brief case on the passenger's seat and clenched his jaw.

This is it, he thought. Just one more. One more and Sonny will let me go.

When Jackson Rippner first met Sonny Falcone he was a no good punk, fresh off the streets of New York at 19 years old and slammed into a jail cell to pay off his debt to society. Sonny was his cellmate, a towering figure at 6'3, forty-seven years old with a heavy italian accent. A hard glare smacked on his face and a cold presence that even the prison guards felt, Sonny looked like he was carved out of wood. Jackson wasn't one to be intimidated though, and when Sonny fixed him with a stone hard stare, Jackson returned it with icy blue eyes. Now Sonny Falcone was known for his hot Sicilian temper, and where as many would have expected him to strike a blow, Sonny only smiled at Jackson. A surprisingly friendly smile.

"You got a name?"

Still staring hard at Sonny, Jackson only grunted, "Who wants to know?"

Sonny laughed hoarsely. "You got moxy, kid," he'd said. "I'll tell you what. Whenever you get outta here, you look me up. The name's Sonny Falcone. You just mention my name anywhere in Brooklynn and they'll tell you where to go. I might have a job for you."

And that was how it all began. Sonny was released the very next day, and Jackson could only wonder what kind of job he had in mind. He hadn't asked. He figured if it was important, Sonny would have told him, and if not, he'd know in time.

Upon his own release, and with no family or close relatives, Jackson headed straight for Brooklynn and found Sonny's headquarters with apparent ease. It was there that he began his training for the job that would consume him from that point on. When he first arrived, he'd thought that Sonny was part of the mob, but to his surprise Sonny had laughed it off saying, "Hey! Not all Italians are in the Mafia, aight? The smart ones know where the _real _money is." And in time, Jackson would find this statement extremely true. He was a well-made man now and very well off.

Being a behind the scenes guy worked well for Jackson, because he wasn't much of an enforcer. Sonny had said he was much too smart for that. Jackson proved to be a smart choice for Sonny, who he began to look to as a father figure. Being the brains behind the operation, Jackson made use of his talents of persuasion and his natural charm gave the false air of innocence that always gave way to a surprising attack. He nailed every job that came his way, and when that happened, Sonny had moved him up to the big time:

High profile asassinations.

Now at 28 years old, as his wrist watch gleamed 2:20 and the familiar ring of his cell reached his ears, he had to remind himself again, as he had to a lot more lately, that he wasn't the trigger man.

"Yeah...so it's done? Alright, I'll see it through." Hanging up the phone, Jackson glanced again at his watch before readjusting his rearview mirror. He sighed. Any minute now the word on Senator Dagwood's assassination would reach federal ears and when that happened it would eventually reach the ears of his wife, three kids and seven grandchildren. Jackson felt the fleeting moment of guilt that had been coming up more often and shook it away. He had been in this business for too long to know that he couldn't let his emotions get in the way. He did his part, and he moved on. It was protocol.

The job came before everything else.

But even though he knew this, he couldn't understand the feelings that had been gnawing away at him in recent months. It was as if years and years of doing what he did were adding up in his sub-concious and slowly the thread was unravelling. These feelings only came in quick succession but it was enough to make him realize he'd had enough. Sure the money was good, and it was the main thing that kept him going all this time, that and his loyalty to Sonny, but he'd been doing it for 9 years, he'd paid his dues, and now he wanted out.

Sonny had promised him. One more. One more important, high profile job and he'd let him go. His part would be easy, a simple task. Change one thing and the rest will fall into place. "I need you to be the one to do it," Sonny had said, his hand on Jackson's shoulder. "This is a very important customer and we need to make him happy. I know you won't disappoint me."

And that faith from Sonny had been enough to accept this last job, on the prospect that once it was over, it was over. Jackson would be a free man.

Stepping out of his car and into the moonlight, Jackson walked slowly across the peer and stood in front of the empty warehouse. He smashed a broken window through with his elbow, pulled out a match and struck it against the side of the building. The smell of kerosene from the open window was strong as Jackson breathed in. All the evidence, all the documents that would have helped in finding five wanted fugitives...would soon be blazing. That knowledge would die here as it had died with Senator Dagwood.

With a flick of his hand, he threw the match through the open window and began to walk away. The fire was sure to spread quickly and sure enough, as he got into his car and drove away, the roaring fire had already reached the roof and when he looked back in his rearview mirror, the sky was ablaze.

One down, one to go.

Grabbing the file off the brief case, he began leafing through it. He skimmed the profile as he made his way to Miami and grinned. It would be simple enough. If he was the flashy type, he might have wanted to go out with a bang, but Jackson preferred it this way. Simple, straight forward. Direct.

"Lisa Reisert," he said aloud, staring at the snap shot of an attractive brunette walking her dog. He tossed the file back on the seat and chuckled, "If I had a weakness..."

But Jackson Rippner did have a weakness.

Failure.

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Please R&R. :) 


	2. Alone, Together

Hey, thanks to everyone who reviewed my story, I appreciate it. And thank you to anyone who enjoyed the Lisa/Jackson music video as well :)

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Alone, Together**

Lisa Reisert tossed her shoes off in exhaustion as she walked through the front door of her Miami condo. She headed straight for the living room and collapsed into a heap on her favorite armchair. It had been another long and strenuous day at the hotel and she was ready to pass out. All day of kissing up to snotty customers and slapping a big, fake smile on her face really wore her out. Just as she closed her eyes, her dog, Max, galloped into the room and jumped on top of her. Laughing, she tried to shove him off.

"Max, quit it!" Her protests didn't stop the friendly husky from licking it's master's face and running to the backdoor eagerly to be let out. Heaving a sigh, Lisa got to her feet and grabbed the dog's leash off the hook. She didn't have a fence in the backyard and usually had to walk her dog every time he needed to go out. It was a hassle, especially given the days she came home so tired, but it was well worth it to her. Max was her sole company these days and a trusted friend since childhood.

He was one of the few things in her life that she could count on...

Sliding back the glass pane, she let Max pull her unwillingly out the door and across the lawn. As he sniffed every inch of grass that came his way, Lisa followed behind, shivering slightly from the cold gust of wind that brushed against her face. She began nervously glancing around the yard, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny for anything or anyone that may be lurking there. She found herself constantly on the alert these days, always having to look over her shoulder wherever she went. Sighing sadly, she gingerly placed a hand to her chest. She hadn't been the same since...

_Two years,_ she told herself. _It's been two years. Why can't you just move on..._

Suddenly she felt a jerk on her arm as Max's leash fell from her grasp and he stormed off.

"Max!" she yelled, following his resounding barks and running in barefeet across the grassy lawn, past the side of the house and towards the sidewalk. "Maximus, you get back here right now!"

Lisa stopped short as she caught sight of Max. In the shadows of the dimly lit street, she could make out the figure of a man standing in the middle of the road. Max, who had jumped on the man, leapt down and stood before his feet, teeth bared and growling. Lisa hesitantly made her way across the street and grabbed the leash now laying on the concrete. Pulling her dog back with brute force, she stood up and faced the man, but his features were barely visible in the dark light.

"I am so sorry," she said, casting the growling dog a quick glare, "He's usually so obedient, I don't know what's gotten into him."

"No worries," the man said, looking down and brushing off his suit, "He didn't do any harm."

"I'm really sorry," she said again, pulling her dog away quickly, "C'mon Max, you know better than that."

The man watched her drag the barking husky across the lawn, silently chastising it along the way. He watched her flip her head back in his direction, her brow wrinkled in confusion before turning back and hurriedly continuing on her way. When she was out of sight, he opened the door to his black Lexus and pulled away quickly.

He had gotten way too close this time.

Breathing heavily, he reached into his brief case and pulled out the familiar file of Lisa Reisert. He knew the profile backward and forward, his notes were meticulous in the 5 weeks he'd been tracking her, and his collection of photographs had multiplied. He'd captured every possible angle of this woman, knew her habits, knew her work schedule, hell he even knew her bedtime ritual and the frequent nightmares that woke her in the middle of the night and kept her awake until the silent buzz from the light of the television lulled her to sleep and she got up to begin another day.

He began to eat, sleep, and breathe this woman, his life revolved solely around her just as her life revolved around her job. To anyone else in the business, he seemed to be doing exactly what he should be: getting to know his target, being as prepared as he could be. But secretly, he found himself completely enthralled by her, obsessively piecing through each puzzle of her life in hand written notes. He began spying on her even when he didn't need to. With each passing day of watching her from afar, he had to stop himself from attempting to get close to her, even though by now he felt he knew her better than she knew herself. She was a loner, just like him. And he became captivated by her unexplained sadness... He often wondered why she was so alone, and thought that if she had someone to talk to, someone just like her, she could open up.

Open up to him...

His obsession with her was slowly making him crazy. He'd never been this way on any job before, after all, he knew how to maintain his composure and be professional, but this woman had him for a loop. He'd seen her kindness, and he'd seen her fear. The look on her face when she left the hotel and hurriedly jumped into her car to the safety of her own home. He'd seen the way she avoided calls from friends and even family...he'd seen her turn down any man who dared ask her for a drink. Her neighbors barely knew she existed, and the ones who did, didn't care.

He was the only one who did care.

Soon he feared that his carelessness would become obvious to everyone around him, but Sonny didn't suspect a thing. He would show him his notes and Sonny would only smile, pat him on the back and tell him how he wished all of his employees were as devoted to the job as he was, and how he'd miss him once it was all over.

Once it was over...

He often thought that when he was out of the business, he'd actually be able to talk to this woman, ask her out for a cup of coffee or something, and he knew she'd go, because she would see something in him that made her realize they were one and the same. It was a nice pipedream, but that's all it could ever be, and he knew it. After it was all over, he'd never see her again. And that was the way it had to be. Besides, she would hate him once this was over...

Still, the thought kept coming back to him and he'd been sneaking in subtle ways of getting close to her: hovering around the lobby of the Lux Atlantic to catch a better glimpse of her, lurking in the bushes around her father's home when she came to visit; he even went so far as to wear a disguise in the elevator and stand next to her the entire way, never speaking a word. This time, however, he'd gone too far. Coming in direct contact with the target was not smart, and not professional. He knew this. But even as his attempts at getting closer became increasingly threatening to the job at hand, he knew that nothing could come of any of it and this only caused him further grief and anger.

_Enough of this_, he thought, shutting the file closed and stuffing it back into his brief case with a violent thrust of his hand. _This is the last time. This is the last time you jeopardize the job because of your own sick fantasies. You're a professional. Obsessing about Lisa Reisert does not serve you._

Wiping the sweat off his brow, Jackson slammed his foot on the gas and headed for home. This would also be the last time he had to remind himself how important it was not to screw up. No mistakes could be made, no excuses tolerated. This final job was crucial, for Sonny, and for himself.

After all, Jackson Rippner hadn't failed a case yet. And he sure as hell wouldn't fail this one.  
But then, Jackson Rippner wasn't even his real name...

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Chapter 3 coming soon! Please review! 


	3. Change of Plans

**Chapter 3 - Change of Plans**

Eight weeks. Lisa Reisert had been the focus of his life for eight, long, hell ass weeks.

Jackson sat in his Lexus, hidden in shadow as he watched her curl up on the sofa with a big bowl of burnt popcorn, Max laying safely by her side. He couldn't see what movie she was watching and from the look on her face, neither could she. She looked sullen and tired. Distant. Her hand was propping her head up against the arm of the couch and her eyes fell to the floor as she gently scratched Max behind the ears.

Jackson lit a cigerette and took a long drag. The menthol burned his throat, but he didn't care. He exhaled slowly, letting the smoke billow from his lips until his head was emersed inside one foggy cloud. He looked back at Lisa and glared.

Oh, how he hated her...

Ever since his run-in with Lisa, he'd been feeding his brain with anything he could not to have a reason to like her, and after only three weeks, it seemed to have worked. The more he thought about how close he'd come to sabotaging the mission, the more he hated her for making him careless. His infatuation had slowly turned to resentment and it was getting easier and easier to convince himself of his newfound hatred for her.

He actually found that there were a great many things he disliked about Lisa Reisert.

For starters, she wasn't a very honest person, always making up excuses to get away from people, be it co-workers, family or friends. She was clumsy. She was a horrible cook. Her face was always buried in a self-help book, and if it wasn't in there, she was in some other whacko stress management course. She always had to please people. She couldn't hold her liquor. Her hair was just way too bouncy. He hated her. He really did. He hated her kindness and he hated her strength, hated the way she didn't lash out at the world when it had so obviously wronged her.

He hated her with every fiber of his being, but the thing he hated most about her, was that she could never be his...

Jackson smoked his cigerette all the way down to the filter as Lisa began falling asleep with her head atop Max. Suddenly the shrill sound of the telephone broke the silence. Jackson quickly threw the cigerette out the car window and reached for the listening device that he had tapped into Lisa's phoneline. He watched her glance up in alarm and, yawning, stood up and reached for the telephone. She propped the phone on her shoulder as Jackson flipped the switch to his headset.

"Hull-lo?" Lisa's sleepy voice crackled over the speaker.

"Lisa, sweetheart?"

"Mom?" she asked, rubbing her eyes awake. "What's wrong?"

Lisa's mother sounded distraught and muffled.

"I don't know how else to say it, so I'm just gonna...I'll just say it...Lise, grandma died."

There was a pause on the line and Jackson glanced up at the window to see Lisa's reaction, but her back was blocking his view. He listened closely as she cleared her throat and responded in a halted voice. "Um...when?"

"Earlier this evening," her mom managed in between small gasps, "..her heart just stopped."

It was quiet again. "Oh...so...I mean what about you, are you okay?" _There she goes again, _Jackson thought with an eyeroll, _putting everyone else first..._

"I'm okay," her mother replied in a withdrawn voice before letting out a heavy sigh. "You're grandmother was an old woman. We all knew it was gonna happen...it's just that," she paused, choking back a sob, "...Well, you're coming to the funeral, right?"

"...Of course."

"Good...I'll let you know when the service is...I just, I don't think I can get through this without you here, Lise."

Jackson saw Lisa's tightened face come into view as she sat down on the edge of the couch. "I know, mom. I love you. I'll see you soon..." Lisa slowly let the phone fall from her ear and gently placed it back on it's carrier. She sat there for a few moments, staring blankly ahead as Max lifted his head up to look at her. She stayed just like that for awhile, her mind contemplating the things she'd have to do to get ready to leave: the plane ticket, the packing, getting time off from work...grieving seemed to sit on the far edge of her brain, as if there was too much to be done in preparation for the funeral to have any time to grieve. It was thoughts like these that sickened her, made her feel void of any human emotion at all.

Jackson watched Lisa's jaw clench as her soft brown eyes slowly turned to glass, the tears beginning to fall calmly down her cheeks as the news of her grandmother's death really began to weigh on her. Then the impactseemed to becometoo much for her, her face falling to her hands and her back heaving heavy sobs as Max could only offer a whimper and a comforting head to place on her lap.

Tearing his eyes away from the sight, Jackson stood still for a few seconds, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he stared ahead into the dark and empty street. Then, he reluctantly reached for his cell and speed dialed headquarters, listening for the familiar voice of his boss and mentor, Sonny Falcone.

The thick italian accent was a dead giveaway. "What's up?"

"It's me," he said quickly, trying not to sneak glances at the distraught Lisa. "Listen, there's a little bump in the road, but I don't think it's anything major."

"Give it to me straight."

"The girl's grandmother died. Mother lives in Texas, she'll be attending the funeral. I give it a couple days, but knowing this one, she's gonna head out a little early and stay as late as her family needs her."

He could almost hear Sonny stroking his chin in thought before he heard the reply, "Aight, come to headquarters now. Ya gonna need to tail this one son, fly out to Texas and keep track of this broad. We'll discuss the details when you get here. Things just may work out to our advantage..."

Hanging up the phone, Jackson stared back at Lisa's crouched figure still sobbing on the couch. The resentment flowed through his veins as he watched her. He hated her alright, of this he was sure. But as Jackson put his car into drive, he knew he wouldn't have been able to stand watching her cry for too much longer. His tires squealed against the pavement as he headed for Sonny's headquarters, ready to put forth the next phase of their plan.

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So I'm super pissed because I had about half of the next chapter written out and it all got deleted, so it's gonna take me a little bit to rewrite it again...gah. Damn, stupid, virusy computer of mine...bah. Anyway, thanks for the reviews! 


	4. Alias

**Chapter 4 - Alias**

Jackson's eyes sprang open in alarm. The blinding light hit him hard and he squinted as his eyes began to adjust. The shapes concealed within the light began to take form and with a hand shading his view, he began to realize where he was.

A hospital bed.

_Oh no,_ he thought, his mind going into a panic. _Oh, fuck._

He sat up too quickly and grabbed his head in pain. The morphine he suspected they gave him was causing the dizziness he felt. His temples throbbed as he tried to concentrate.

"Think, Rippner," he whispered to himself in a quivering voice, "Why are you here.."

Sudden flashes hit him quickly. He was on the plane...Lisa had made the call...everything was going according to plan...

A jolt in his side knocked him out of thought and he angrily ripped the IV tube stuck through his arm. As he stood up from the bed, the searing pain in his chest was enough to remind him of what had happened.

The pen...Lisa had stabbed him in the neck with a pen...she escaped...he had failed.

Failed.

As if to confirm it, he reached up and felt the bandage covering up the hole in his throat. He swallowed hard and felt the pain in his neck, the anger and panic beginning to swell inside him.

_Sonny's gonna kill me..._

Breathing hard, he scanned his surroundings for any means of escape: A window. A door. A vent. With new determination he hobbled across the room to the door, pressed against the wall for leverage and peeked through the tiny glass pane window. The hall seemed deserted. Changing position, Jackson noticed a cop standing guard, leaning against the wall on the side of the door.

_Shit. _

Jackson staggered back to the bed and sat down. Looking at his leg, he noticed a bandage wrapped around his thigh.

_From when that bitch stabbed me,_ he thought angrily. He touched his finger to the patch of blood that had soaked through and winced. He had never understood women and shoes...

_I kinda got the message now..._

Jackson shut his eyes and tried to think rationally.

_Okay...you're stuck in this room. The window...you're too high up. The vent...too small. The door is your only option...but you got a cop right outside in case you try anything...you can't walk out of here unnoticed...there's no way out. _

_No way out._

The realization hit him hard. Lying back on the bed, he stared up at the bright ceiling with wide eyes.

_Don't let this defeat you, _he told himself._ You can't. Just remember what happened._

Now that he was beginning to think more clearly and with no means of escape readily at hand, he tried to concentrate on the events that had led him here...

* * *

Jackson Rippner. He liked this one. After glancing at the wallet, given the letters J.R. to work with, he decided on his new alias almost instantly. Jackson Rippner...Jack the Ripper...it amused him. He always liked putting his own spin on his new aliases, and he'd had many over the span of 9 years. 

Jefferson Dah'mere.  
Charlie Mansion.  
Todd Buntee.  
Wes Memphis the III.

And now Jackson Rippner. He'd had so many, in fact, that he could only scarcely remember his true identity, one that he would only be all too willing to forget...

_I might keep this one for awhile,_ he thought with a chuckle. _I've grown fond of it._ Pulling the credit cards from the wallet, he stopped to stare at a picture of Lisa. _Well, among other things... _

Slipping it in his jacket pocket, he headed out the door of his hotel, down the elevator and entered the taxi waiting for him out front. As the car took off into the dark and stormy night, Jackson reached for his cell and dialed.

"What's up? I'm on my way...no, she already left her mother's house. Yeah. No, my other guy is tailing her as we speak. Should be up in the air pretty soon...no, I didn't hear about any delays...is this gonna affect us? It better not." Jackson's eyes glanced towards the driver who was staring at him through the rearview mirror and placed a hand over the reciever. "You mind?"

The driver shrugged and returned his gaze to the road. Jackson pulled the phone back to his ear.

"Listen, just stay put. And keep me updated."

Clicking the phone shut, Jackson peered out through the rain streaked window. In just a few hours he would be on that plane, sitting next to Lisa Reisert and making her life hell.

_Sorry, Lise._

Closing his eyes, Jackson ran through the plan once again in his head. He'd already been through it a million times, but it was quite an elaborate scheme. One tiny mistake could ruin everything. He had to be prepared. The assistance of his crew would be crucial to it's success and he knew that should everything go according to plan, his role in the game would make or break it.

Sonny's parting words kept replaying in his head over and over...

_Your last day, son. And it's a big one. You keep your head straight and your eye on the ball, this last job'll be a piece of cake. I wouldn't give this one to just anyone, kid. I know I don't have to tell you that failure is not an option. _

No, he didn't.

The taxi soon arrived at the airport and Jackson hastily shoved a wad of bills into the driver's hand before stepping out into the rain. As he made his way through the double glass doors and past the shoving crowd, he quickly looked to the flight schedule and groaned when he saw that his flight would be delayed.

Weather had not be accounted for in the plan. Just then his phone rang again and he answered it quickly.

"Yeah? Good, where is she? Okay...yeah, I know it's been delayed. If there's a cancellation, things may get a little complicated. Of course not, you idiot, if we get the go-ahead then we finish the job no matter what. Now listen closely...first let Sonny know, then tell our guys to talk to their guys. You'll know when I do if I can get on that plane tonight, so just call me and let me know what's up."

Shaking his head in annoyance, Jackson pocketed his cellphone before grabbing a seat in the terminal. He hadn't thought about it at first, but this delay could very well work out in his favor... Despite every conflicting emotion he had for Lisa, the thought of being able to get to know her on a more human level before having to turn around and enforce the plan was becoming a very intriguing notion.

_Develop a bond...get her to trust you...confuse her own emotions...she might be more willing to accomodate..._

His business ethics told him that these were good reasons to do it, but another side of him held onto the idea for a completely different reason... The little voice in the back of his head seemed to echo through him... _It's your only chance to get close to her..._

He entertained the thought as he scanned the crowd. His informant who had been following Lisa's cab had said she'd already arrived so he should look for her at the gate. Sure enough, the chestnut curls weren't hard to miss and he smiled as he watched her head towards the end of the line.

_Showtime._

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I have a much better idea of where I'm going with this than when I started, so expect the next chapter very soon! Oh, and for those wondering what other serial killers/murderers I modeled his previous aliases after:

Jefferson Dah'mere is **Jeffrey Dahmer**  
Charlie Mansion is **Charles Manson**  
Todd Buntee is **Ted Bundy**  
Wes Memphis the III is **The West Memphis Three** (my personal fave, lol)

Reviews are always nice! nudge nudge, wink wink :)


	5. Dishonesty

**Chapter 5 - Dishonesty**

_"You're too late! Everyone's alive. In that hotel, every single person is alive! What you didn't know? You failed, JACK!"_

He could still hear her patronizing voice in his head.

"It's all her fault," he croaked, his voice still throaty and strained. It was because of _her _that he had failed. It was because of _her _that Sonny was going to make his life hell. And it was because of her that he'd be stuck in this job forever... The anger he felt for her burned steadily inside of him but the need for vengeance slowly faded into reality. Nothing could be done from in here.

He was stuck.

_So close, _he thought helplessly. _I was so close... _He gave a dejected sigh as he stared aimlessly at the ceiling. Still stuck in this hospital bed with the feds just a few feet outside his door, Jackson weighed the few options he had left.

Jump out the window...and fall to his death.  
Bust through the door...and possibly be shot to death.

Or surrender...

As much as he hated admitting defeat, as an alternative to death, it didn't look too shabby...

_Maybe it won't be so bad, _he mused, the morphine making him feel loose and airy, _At least it'll all be over in jail...I'll be finished. _

It was a nice thought, but the rational part of his brain knew that if he didn't face Sonny soon after failing the job, he really _would _be finished... Besides, he thought, he was Sonny's favorite. Everyone knew it. Maybe he could reason with him...but in order to do that, he had to get outta here, and soon. Jackson knew the only option he had was to escape, no matter what the cost.

Just then the door creaked open and a young doctor stepped into the room. He walked over to the side of Jackson's bed carrying a clipboard and pushed the rim of his glasses past his nose.

"Mr. Rippner?" he said, his voice loud and steady. "I see your awake...my name is Dr. Ryan, I've been taking care of you during your stay here."

Jackson opened his mouth to say something, but the doctor held up his hand in protest.

"No, don't try to talk. You've punctured your windpipe. Nothing too severe, it should heal in time, but I suggest you try not to strain your voice." He eyed the dangling IV tube and narrowed his eyes at Jackson. "You really shouldn't have ripped that out."

He inserted the tube back into Jackson's arm before returning his view to the clipboard. Jackson's eyes were glazed as he looked up at the doctor. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to speak. "Doc?"

Dr. Ryan was scribbling furiously when he looked back towards Jackson. "Please, Mr. Rippner, don't talk."

"Doc..." he said again, his voice a little stronger. Sighing, the doctor let the clipboard fall to his side.

"Yes?"

Jackson's eyes seemed distant and far away. "...You're not afraid of me?"

Dr. Ryan seemed a little alarmed at the question and hesitated. After a moment, he only shrugged. "Your room is heavily guarded. The morphine we gave you isn't going to allow your body to try anything unwise. You've sustained two gunshots, one to the chest, one to the abdomen, you were stabbed in the leg, your throat is obviously punctured...your body has taken quite a beating, Mr. Rippner. We're only keeping you here another night or so and then you'll be spending the rest of your days in jail...so no. I'm not afraid of you."

Returning to his clipboard, Dr. Ryan continued scribbling as Jackson stared up at him. Jackson seemed to reluctantly agree with this logic and slowly closed his eyes. Then he whispered something under his breath, causing the doctor to eye him curiously.

"What was that, Mr. Rippner?"

Eyes still tightly shut, Jackson whispered it again.

The doctor sat his clipboard on the bedside table and leaned in closer. "Say again?"

Opening his eyes wide, Jackson spoke loudly in his raspy tone. "You should be."

The blow to the head was unexpected as the doctor's feet gave way from under him, Jackson grabbing the collar of his shirt to keep him from falling to the floor. Sprawled on the side of the bed, the doctor was out cold. Jackson felt woozy as he grabbed his head and groaned. He really needed to find a different way to knock people out.

The headbutt just happened to be the most effective...

* * *

"Save you a seat?"

Jackson smiled as he watched her cheeks turn pink and she flustered with her words, chuckling as he spoke. "Yeah, you know, that was...I just thought since we're on the same flight, I didn't mean to invade your personal space..."

_Wouldn't dream of it..._

"No no--" Lisa started, but a voice interrupted her.

"Ma'am? I can take you over here?"

Whipping her head back around to face him, she let yet another lie push quickly past her lips. "I just, I have a few calls to make..."

_You're such a liar, Lise..._

"Sure, I understand," he said, trying to conceal his disappointment. "Go ahead. Have a good flight."

"Okay, you too."

Jackson stared after her as she walked off, so eager to get away. He had hoped that it would be a little easier for him to gain her trust, but indeed, her excuses were still piling up. _Ah, Lise...if you could only take a chance... _

He watched her walk away from the service counter, her eyes stealing one last glance at him before disappearing into the crowd. The connection he felt with her was still clear in his mind as another clerk called him up. Approaching the front desk, he couldn't help but feel a little dejected. Even though he'd seen her make up every tired excuse after another in the past, he had been so convinced that she would actually let her guard down this time. As much as he hated to admit it, her rejection had been disappointing for him. Watching her for so long had instilled a bond in him, however confusing and contradicting it may be, and he had to remind himself once again that it was only one sided...

After taking care of tiresome airline business, he sauntered off towards the Tex Mex and sat on a bar stool. The bartender came up and Jackson slapped down a ten dollar bill on the counter.

"Jack and coke, no ice, and an order of nachos, thanks." The bartender nodded and Jackson turned his gaze towards the crowd, his eye out for Lisa. No sign of her.

_Who am I kidding, _he thought.

He let out a defeated sigh. So much for this delay working out in his favor...he checked his watch for the fifth time that day and wondered if he would be so lucky as to not have to go through with this job. So many things could go wrong, and he was almost surprised to find himself hoping they would. A cancellation would complicate things...you always had to worry about clearance...maybe their business partners would change their mind about this assassination...

The more he thought of Lisa the more he hoped this would be...

Just then the bartender plopped down a stack of nachos and a drink in front of him. Jackson reached for a nacho before hearing a loud crash behind him.

"Oh! Oh my god! I am so sorry!"

Jackson turned his head to see what all the commotion was about and had to supress a chuckle in finding Lisa standing several yards away from him, covered in a frozen latte. As he watched with amusement the exchange between the drenched Lisa and the woman who ran into her, he thought about all the times he'd seen her act just as clumsy; getting her heel stuck in a grate, banging her head on a cupboard, tripping over the force of her dog Max...

As he watched her head for the bathroom, his smile slowly faded as a sudden realization fell upon him.

He actually found her clumsy nature almost endearing...

Before he could dwell on the thought, the vibration of his cell phone broke his concentration and he quickly pulled it up to his ear.

"Yeah? No, I'm still waiting...right. You got confirmation? When? ...Oh. Good." Jackson could feel the disappointment gnawing inside him at hearing the frozen cases of salmon had passed clearance and were well on their way to the marina by Lux Atlantic. Yet another aspect of the plan to go off without a hitch...at this rate, it would soon be up to him...

"Okay, thanks for letting me know...yeah. Alright."

He hung up the phone slowly and sighed. Now all he had to do was pass the time until he was up in the air. Drumming his fingers on the counter, he reached for his glass and took another sip of jack and coke. As he set it down, he was pleasantly surprised to find Lisa standing before him, latte stained jacket no where to be seen. She looked determined, if not a little nervous, and he couldn't stop the smile that so easily crept past his lips.

_Will wonders never cease.._

"Oh," he said brightly, "Hi."

"Hi," she replied, a bit timid in her approach. She motioned towards the chair beside him with her eyes. "Um...is this taken?"

_That's it, Lise. Baby steps..._

With a gesturing hand, Jackson smiled. "No, it's all yours."

"Thanks."

As she took the seat across from him, a knowing smile danced on his lips and he decided to play off his secret knowledge of her in the most subtle of ways.

"So," he began slyly, "Did you get your..._calls _made?"

Nodding nervously, he could see the shame in her eyes as they darted back and forth. "Yeah, no more calls.."

_You mean no more lying, Lise?_

"Good. What will you have?"

_Grapefruit Seabreeze._

A little taken aback, Lisa only shook her head. "Um, no it's--I'm okay."

"If I can guess?"

Charmed, Lisa reluctantly agreed with a nod of her head. "...Okay."

_Grapefruit Seabreeze._

"Um, I'm feeling vodka," Jackson began, smiling at the pleased nod Lisa gave him. The answer sat on the very tip of his tongue as he played his own secret game with her, she herself unaware of her own participation. "Definitely sweetened...um, Cosmo?"

Lisa grimaced as Jackson grinned.

"No, way too common," he remarked, noting the crimson hue of her cheeks. "Um...Screwdriver? No?" Laughing at the sour look on her face, he shook his head. "No, way too boring...so that leaves me with the simplicity of the grapefruit...or...the complexity of the pineapple..."

_Grapefruit Seabreeze._

She gave a hinting grunt as he paused to respond with complete confidence.

"Grapefruit Seabreeze," he said with finality.

_You're just not that complex, Lise._

Lisa gave him a sly glance before turning her head mischievously to one side. It was then that he noticed the look in her eyes, one that told him she was actually playing a little game of her own...

Leaning across the counter, Lisa ordered her drink.

"Could I have a...Baybreeze?"

_...What are you up to..._

"Ahh..." Jackson feigned disappointment as he continued to watch the lies pour out of her.

"It's an impressive talent, though," Lisa assured him with a smile, "Very close."

It took a moment for Jackson to realize what Lisa was pulling. It was a typical girl thing, he couldn't believe how he'd missed it in the first place. She was purposely changing her drink preference to get one over on him...to not seem so predictable...to flirt with him...whatever it was, he still managed to look at it as another lie on top of the overflowing compost heap and he wasn't sure if he liked the new spun rules of the game...

"You know," he said with a shrug, "it breaks the ice."

They both shared a quick laugh as the conversation began to pick up. He started to learn more about her than he ever could by only watching her, such as the extent of her relationship with her grandmother, and Jackson was surprised to learn that the enigmatic Lisa actually seemed to have a sense of humor. Even after watching her all this time, he'd never seen her speak so animately or so much about her personal life, and now that she was actually opening up a little more, and to him of all people, the familiar feelings of infatuation began to surface. He found her company extremely enjoyable and this perplexed him.

He didn't _want _to enjoy her company..

Soon the bartender plopped an iced Baybreeze in front of Lisa, and Jackson watched her knowingly as she sipped delicately from a straw, her face contorting in bitter protest.

"That taste okay?"

Lisa swallowed it down hard and nodded. "It's fine."

_Liar._

"You sure?" he asked as she set her glass back down. "Cuz we can always get you that Seabreeze."

"You sound like my dad," Lisa said, giving him a look as he let out a small chuckle. "You know, I say 'I'm fine,' he says 'Are you sure'...I'm sure."

It was then that Jackson realized he could never break Lisa from her lies, never get inside that pretty little head of hers and see what makes her tick. He'd enjoyed his time spent with her, but that's all he'd have to settle for.

He was here to do one job, and one job only.

"Okay, I believe you."

_No, I don't._

* * *

Officer Brigance sighed heavily as he surveyed the hall. He'd been here all afternoon guarding this stupid room instead of out there doing _actual _policework. It was a disgrace to stand guard outside a man's room who'd been shot, stabbed, and was currently too pumped full of morphine to try anything remotely dangerous. It felt pointless to Jeff Brigance, a newbie officer who felt that he should be doing something a little more important for the department than waiting around for something that would never happen.

Not to mention he was starving...

He'd been at his post 6 hours straight, watching the doctors go in and out, the patients go back and forth, same old same old. It was tiresome, not to mention boring.

_Screw it, _he thought. _Nothing's gonna happen if I leave for a few minutes...besides, the doctor's in there to watch him, it'll be fine._

Scanning the halls quickly, he moved fast. He ran through the stairwell, two floors down to the vending machine and stuffed his creased dollar inside the slot. After several tries he was finally able to get a bag of potato chips and quickly ripped it open, stuffing the chips hungrily in his mouth.

As he turned to go back up the stairwell, a doctor shoved past him in a hurry and the chips flew out of his hand.

"Hey!" he yelled, turning to face the doctor, but he was already hobbling away at a fantastic speed. Shaking his head at the mess on the floor, he turned to go back up the stairs but stopped short as he hit the first step.

That face. He recognized that face.  
But from where...

Suddenly his eyes grew wide. _Oh no._

"OH, SHIT!" he yelled, grabbing the cb radio off his holster and slamming his fist against he fire alarm. He began to run as fast as he could in the doctor's direction, the alarm blaring through the hospital.

"Code Red!" he yelled into the radio, "Grant Hospital! Code Red! Suspect proceeding on foot! White lab coat, dark hair, 5'9, walks with a limp! I need backup now!"

Bursting through the hospital doors, Officer Brigance's eyes darted back and forth across the outside entrance for anyone that fit the description, but to no avail.

Jackson Rippner had escaped.

* * *

My longest chapter yet, mainly because of conversation. I hope you didn't get too bored rereading stuff they've already said. I tried to make it a little different with thoughts behind words and things...but anyways, please review! I also wanted to give you a lil gift with this update, which is another Red Eye video that you can watch at my site (check my profile).

I did it to "Who I Am Hates Who I've Been" by Relient K. It's a more fluffier look at L/J so I hope you enjoy that.

But thanks to everyone who has reviewed, it's kept me going with this silly story :P


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